


Since the Flood

by CeliaBowenn



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: All of the above - Freeform, Angst, Book 1 Spoilers, Book 2 Spoilers, Can't help myself, Fluff, Interspecies Romance, Obsessed with This Game, One Shot Collection, Original Female Dectective, Romance, The Wayhaven Chronicles (Book 1), The Wayhaven Chronicles (Book 2), Things Better Left Unsaid, Unresolved Sexual Tension, open for requests, or are they?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaBowenn/pseuds/CeliaBowenn
Summary: Collection of stories/one-shots about the Wayhaven Chronicles, featuring original Detective(s).From "Judgement" -Golden irises seemed to burn like embers, practically glowing in the dim fluorescent light.“You would stake your life on it?”
Relationships: Female Detective (The Wayhaven Chronicles)/Other(s), Female Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Falk (Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Farah Hauville, Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Natalie "Nat" Sewell
Kudos: 16





	1. Judgement (F!Detective & Falk)

Adam wouldn't approve. 

Granted, there were a fair number of things that the blonde vampire didn’t believe in. Take, for instance, basic social skills and office décor.

The reminder of her poor office furniture only served to deepen her existing frown. 

Nevertheless, Ophelia Langford didn’t think the other members of Unit Bravo would agree with this either. Perhaps Nat would, seeing as they were both striving for peace between the two groups. 

Or perhaps she would recognize it for the impulsive, borderline desperate move it was. 

Gripping the porcelain tighter, Ophelia inhaled deeply, shoulders slumping as the breath left her lungs. Lifting her chin, she met the waiting blue eyes.

From here, she could see the dark circles under her reflection’s determined stare, the tension in her sore arms. 

The last time she’d seen the leader of the Maa-alused was less than pleasant; she had been so, so close to convincing him that the Agency wasn’t responsible, that they could _help_. The unfortunate timing of Adam’s phone had ruined it, allowing the pale supernatural to escape through the nearest reflective surface. 

Hence her current predicament. 

She wondered if Falk could already see her in the bathroom mirror. Ever since his first...unexpected visit, Ophelia had kept a blanket over it. 

Although she had handled the strange situation with dignity intact - manners and honesty seemed to go a long way with the Maa-alused - she still preferred to have some semblance of privacy in her own apartment. Or at least the illusion of it. 

However, the colorful quilt now laid at her feet, useless. 

Tearing her eyes away from her reflection, Ophelia smoothed down the simple silk blouse, adjusting her posture to conceal the steadily rising nerves. 

“Falk?” 

...

Nothing. 

Even after witnessing magic - hell, she was the human liaison for a secret government conspiracy with _vampires_ as teammates - Ophelia felt ridiculous attempting it herself. Her voice echoed in the small, tiled room, bouncing off the closed door. It wasn’t locked, left ever-so-slightly ajar. 

Just in case, she told herself. 

Clearing her throat, Ophelia tried again.

“Falk, can you hear me? Please, I -” Her words caught in her throat when the mirror began to ripple. 

Stepping back, she nearly stumbled into the bathtub behind her, the porcelain edge hitting the back of her calves. Using the wall to right herself, Ophelia watched the familiar figure step gracefully into the room. 

His features were stiff in anger, hands clasped behind his back. She had little doubt that if she gave off even the slightest _hint_ of a threat, things wouldn’t end well. The thought had her heart stuttering in her chest, pounding out a violent rhythm that did little to ease her worries. 

There was no turning back, now. 

Obsidian eyes studied her cautiously, flickering to the small space around them. Slowly, she straightened, making sure to keep her hands visible at her sides. He followed the movement, jaw clenched. 

“You dare call me after provoking an attack on my people?” His smooth voice was low and coiled, like a snake poised to strike. “Alone? Where’s your...backup?” His lip curled in distaste. 

While he could likely hear the unsteady pulse that betrayed her nervousness, Ophelia kept her chin lifted and shoulders back. He hadn’t brought any of his own ‘backup’ with him; that was a minor victory in and of itself.

How much should she tell him?

Honesty had worked in her favor thus far. Besides, he was already here. If the Maa-alused decided it was the Agency’s fault for the horrible attack, then…

Oh, Mason was going to be _pissed_ if anything happened, though he would probably be annoyed regardless of the outcome. Farah would be more disappointed that she “missed the action”, but only if she lived to tell the tale.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, Ophelia said, “Thank you for coming, Falk.”

The only reaction was the faintest twitch of his lips. 

“The others aren’t here. I thought it’d be better to clear the air without…” Without the Agency looming over them, she wanted to say. “Without the team.”

There was a pause, each millisecond elongated and stretched into an unbearable silence. 

“I want to help.” 

Falk immediately scoffed, but Ophelia continued on, “It wasn’t the Agency that attacked your people, I swear by it.” His eyes followed the hand that she pressed to her chest, rising to meet her resolute gaze. 

“How can I trust you?” She could almost hear the ‘again’ at the end of the sentence, left unspoken. 

“As I said before,” Ophelia was careful with her tone, all too aware of the lingering tension and their limited confines, “I...we want to help your people, not harm them. Why would we attempt to form a treaty if our plan was to attack?” 

She tampered down the small bubble of hope when his shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. He was actually listening! 

Those golden ringed eyes dropped from hers, and she pressed her lips together to keep from worrying them further. The last thing she needed was to draw blood in front of a suspicious supernatural.

“And if I’m wrong,” She took a slow breath, raising her hands into the air as a sign of surrender, “then...you can cast your judgement on me.” 

Surprise flitted across his face before he could hide it, eyes widening by a fraction.

Silently, she hoped the key word would help, not hinder. Reasonable as Falk seemed to be - he had taken her responses in stride during their first meeting - he was also rather ambivalent, as if a certain phrase or action could easily snap him back into his original mindset. 

It was also true that the magical disease didn’t have a permanent effect on her, but there were other ways...Ophelia’s heart stuttered once more when Falk took a step forward; her back hit the wall as he closed the distance between them. 

Golden irises seemed to burn like embers, practically glowing in the dim fluorescent light. 

“You would stake your life on it?” He sounded more curious than anything, pale strands of hair cascading over his shoulder as he tilted his head. The tile was cool against her back, especially through the thin fabric of her shirt.

She barely suppressed the shiver that ran through her. Breathlessly, she nodded. 

His lips pursed as he seemed to consider this, but didn’t move. Finally - the seconds felt like hours - Falk took a step back, nodding to himself. 

Ophelia took the opportunity to collect herself, pressing her trembling fingers against the wall. 

“Very well.”

“We,” She stopped before her voice could crack, clearing her throat lightly, “We already have a plan to rescue Sanja. Our team has narrowed down the location -” Ophelia paused, eyebrows furrowing, “Wait, what?”

Had she heard him correctly?

She mentally chastised herself for the ‘eloquent’ response, but Falk only chuckled. There was no trace of the previous fury he displayed, only the faintest hint of fatigue and another, unrecognizable, emotion. 

Ophelia was shocked to see a smile, albeit tense, settle on his lips. 

“I will…” He pulled his gaze away, hands still clasped behind him, “take it into consideration.” Falk glanced back at her, something unspoken lingering in his expression. 

She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face, pushing herself off the wall. “Really?” 

Could it be that easy? She thought it would’ve taken more convincing, especially after their previous, disastrous encounter. 

She could’ve sworn she saw amusement glitter in his eyes. “Your sincerity is admirable.” The smile vanished, “Even if I cannot say the same for your...organization.” 

“I…” Ophelia shook her head, struggling to control the aching grin, “Thank you, Falk. You won’t regret this.” 

His lips twitched upwards, nodding once in her direction. With that, he turned, silently stepping through the mirror. 

As soon as the reflective surface cleared, she leant against the wall, sinking to the floor. She didn’t exactly trust her legs to support her as the jittery combination of adrenaline and excitement coursed wildly through her veins. 

“It...it worked.” Ophelia tilted her head back, dragging a hand across the stubborn smile, “It actually worked.” 

Biting her lip, she peered up at the mirror. 

There was no sign that Falk had ever been there, the reflection only showing the crisp white tiles above her head. 

A year ago, Ophelia couldn’t have even imagined the oddities that made up her current life. Fanged secret agents and magical blood, feathered women and scorching dark eyes rimmed in gold...Men who could walk through mirrors and conjure entire caverns within striped tents. Fortune tellers with mysterious abilities…

The reminder of Sanja sobered her easily enough, the weight of their responsibilities returning.

It was all good and well that Falk had genuinely listened to her, but what good would it do if something happened to the Maa-alused’s “heart”? 

With a sigh, she pulled herself to her feet, scooping up the brightly colored quilt. “Hang in there, Sanja.” Ophelia murmured quietly, studying the fabric in her hands, “We’re coming for you.” 

The overhead bulbs flickered off with the switch, sending the room into relative darkness. Footsteps echoed in the small space as the door was left ajar. 

The blanket was left on the edge of the sink, neatly folded.


	2. Lady Luck (F!Detective/Mason)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In order to win you must be prepared to lose sometime. And leave one or two cards showing." - Van Morrison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between Book 1 and 2. Enjoy!

Detective Tsukiko Lin was full of surprises. 

At first, she’d been just another human (her smile was anything but professional). There was a fire in those eyes that even Adam’s overbearing sense of propriety couldn’t smother. 

Until that asshole Murphy brought those damned thralls. 

He remembered when she’d stumbled into him, wielding a shard of glass defensively. Bruises littered her smudged skin, the intoxicatingly sweet tang of blood seeping from her palm and bare feet. Eyes dulled with pain and fear, she had nearly attacked him with the makeshift weapon. 

What the hell had he done to her?

Despite his fury (and relief and guilt and concern) Mason was almost impressed by the human’s resourcefulness. Even more so when she used the glass shard to help take down Murphy. 

Now _that_ was satisfying to watch. 

For a group of immortal vampires, the following months were particularly agonizing, each day gradually bleeding into the next. Mason went through twice as many cigarettes, much to Nat’s chagrin.

However, it wasn’t until she returned that he realized. 

Nat had been overly enthusiastic about the Detective’s return, spouting off something about friendship and rainbows (or something like it). The brunette was still determined to teach Tsukiko how to properly cook; Mason just wondered how she survived on her own for this long without burning down her apartment. 

Farah was practically bouncing out of her seat at all the “adventures” they could have with the Detective, especially since they discovered her penchant for card games. It wasn’t too annoying (but definitely hilarious, watching Adam’s patience slowly dwindle). 

Predictably, Adam tried to remain wholly professional, though the pair had once been caught discussing the merits of white versus red wine. If pressed, however, the conversation never happened. According to their team leader, there was no time for inane gossip.

Nearly seventy days after the Murphy incident, the Detective returned and Mason realized...the team had been missing a member.

When did _that_ happen?

Worst of all, Tsukiko had even managed to worm her way past Mason’s usual defenses. 

Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. 

Farah still wouldn’t let him forget that _one time_ he listened to the Detective about smoking in the station. Now, the younger vampire would give him a shit-eating grin whenever Mason so much as glanced in Tsukiko’s direction. 

It didn’t help that he kept getting his ass kicked by said Detective.

Mason growled, tossing the cards onto the table, “This is bullshit.” 

“You’re just mad because you’re losing,” Farah’s lips curled into a victorious smirk, “Again.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her. Meanwhile, Tsukiko appeared to bite back her own smile, though her glittering eyes betrayed her amusement.

Some of the tension in his chest eased at the sight. 

Nat smiled, though her focus remained on her hand, “It’s a game of luck, more than anything.”

Adam cleared his throat, “Your turn, Detective.” While it was clear their team leader was taking the game a bit too seriously and had yet to join the banter, the corner of his lips would occasionally twitch upwards. 

“I can’t believe we’ve never played this before.” Farah tilted back in her chair, her cards casually tucked between splayed fingers. 

“That’s because it’s for kids.” Mason pushed an unlit cigarette between his lips. The familiar _click_ of the lighter was a small comfort, though he didn’t raise the spark to the “cancer stick”, as the Detective liked to call it (the smoke would conceal his view of the game, that’s all). 

“So?” Farah shrugged, grinning. 

Nat shook her head, smiling, “It’s nice to take a break every now and again.” Her eyes flashed meaningfully towards Adam, who only pursed his lips in response.

“It _is_ meant for children,” Tsukiko admitted, index finger tapping against the back of her cards. Dark eyes suddenly flashed towards him, twin dimples reappearing with the force of her smile. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t play.”

A responding smirk crawled onto his lips, and Mason leaned forwards. He recognized a challenge when he heard one, especially coming from her. 

“Mason.” 

It was always a bit strange when the Detective said his name; each syllable rolled slowly between her lips, as if she was reluctant to let them go. Nevertheless, a brief thrill ran through him at the sound. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

He relished the flush that spread across her pale skin at the nickname (originally meant to be sarcastic), though the satisfaction from eliciting such a reaction was dampened by Farah’s smug expression. 

Without acknowledging the steadily creeping blush, Tsukiko arched an eyebrow at him, “Four of Diamonds.”

The smirk was wiped from his face instantly. 

Adam frowned, glancing down at his hand. Farah burst into laughter, shoulders shaking with the effort. Mason was incredibly tempted to kick the younger vampire’s chair over (it was already leaning on the back two legs).

Instead, he silently plucked the card from his pile, shoving it in the Detective’s direction. He only had three left, anyways. She was helping him, not the other way around (or that’s what he would tell himself).

The grin that bloomed across her features was almost worth it. 

Almost. 

“What a good sport.” Farah teased. Mason scowled, but didn’t get the chance to retort.

“Thank you, _sunshine_.” The Detective sent a wink in his direction, setting the pair of cards aside. “Your move.” The sweater she wore clung to her body as she settled into the plush seat, hugging the sloping curves that he often found himself drawn to. 

Whenever she caught him staring, Tsukiko would either return with an equally flirtatious comment or allow her embarrassment to get the best of her, a pleasant flush climbing up her neck and face. Sometimes, it was both.

Either way, it was entertaining trying to guess which reaction he’d receive. For example...

Mason shifted the cigarette between his lips to retort, “Ten of Hearts.” 

Tsukiko met his challenging gaze with a smirk of her own, leaning closer. 

Oh, so she wanted to be bold today. That was more than fine with him. 

She waited until they were less than a breath away, the enticing scent that always lingered around her nearly clouding his senses. Dark, half-lidded eyes bore into his, the very air heating in the mere inches left between them. 

Her petal-pink lips slowly parted - his attention immediately drawn south - as two words escaped in a low, sultry breath.

“Go Fish.”

"What the f-” 

Tsukiko leaned back smugly in her seat. Mason scowled. 

There was a loud _thud_ as Farah fell to the ground, still cackling. 

The Detective pulled her gaze away to check on her, returning the self-satisfied grin when she realized that the vampire wasn’t hurt. 

When her eyes met his again, it was almost worth the heavy glare from Adam and Nat's disappointed sigh.

Almost.


End file.
